A Fragile Family

Excerpt:
Prologue

Camiguin Province
Northern Mindanao
Philippines

“I don’t see it.”
“Don’t see what?”
Ashley puffed a heavy sigh. “Sherman, are you even here with me?”
“Sure I am, sweet cheeks,” the large man grinned, his head popping out from behind an old, overused map.
“I’m looking for the fuel filter. There must be a fuel filter…” she stopped, pulling in another deep breath. “Sherman, you think you could come over here and give me a hand?”
“Sugar hips, nothing would make me happier…except maybe calling a limo right now. Problem is, a limousine turning up on this lovely dirt road is just as likely as you getting that relic started again.” Sherman moved around the car during his little speech and now stood facing her. The first heavy drops of rain were splattering his face.
He was right, she knew that. And because of that, he had already insisted that they prepare the three families stranded in this isolated little town for the storm on its way. First an earthquake had divided this low-lying plain, and now, a storm threatened.
There just weren’t that many options. It was a low-lying area and the ground was dusty and dry. There weren’t any caves in the area and the only hills around were likely to cause more harm than good. They couldn’t take the families anywhere, really, that would make them safe.
They’d ridden in with the usual emergency team, splitting up so that the other three members could go to a larger settlement and help those people regroup in the aftermath of the earthquake—the result of an angry volcano.
Unfortunately, the other team was out of reach and there was no transportation available to take anyone anywhere. To make a bad situation worse, this small settlement was on the side of a steep hill. Though there were seven volcanoes on the island, the area surrounding this little village was all loamy dirt. Dirt that made mud.
“Ahh, stuff it!” she growled, aggravated. It was a “Myles” thing to say, she knew it. But somehow, invoking her estranged mate comforted her just a little bit. It didn’t take away her ire, though. “We’re stuck and I’m just wasting time, right? Just go ahead and say you told me so, why don’t you?”
“You said it well enough yourself, Ash. You don’t need me for that. Now,” Sherman folded the map and stuck it back into whatever pocket or flap he’d pulled it out of. “Let’s go find us some grub, shall we? It pays to eat while it’s on offer, don’t-cha-know?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Ashley grumbled, following Sherman into one of the ramshackle buildings that those who’d remained behind were using as a community center.
****
The rain beat a steady tattoo on the tin roof, a drumbeat of danger, impending doom that everyone there was aware of, and could do nothing about. They’d already lined a wall of sandbags around the perimeter of the little community, hoping to divert the flow of mud when it came. And it would come. There was no doubt about that.
As if Sherman were privy to her bleak thoughts, and he so often was, the large man strode toward her, entering from the opposite side of the building, his long legs eating the distance between them.
“John-John, could you get me some more rice crisps?” Ashley smiled sweetly at the little boy who’d become her adoring shadow. The moment he scampered away, she looked at Sherman. “What’s wrong, Sherm?”
“Ash, the storm is increasing in strength and heading this way. We’ve got one real problem and a potential one,” he warned her.
“Oh, is that all?” she quipped elbowing him, eliciting a tight smile from her team leader. “Hit me!”
“Not that you don’t need a good spanking,” he winked, then sobered. “Okay, the real problem is, of course, that the trench and sandbags might not hold off the water and mud because of the ground saturation and such. Worse than that, though, is that there’s a few little farms up the hill there, some with cleared dirt, and one for sure with a pond of some kind. Uh…” he faltered for a second and then continued. “There’s a weak tectonic shelf, according to the genealogist I just spoke to, with a rock mass consisting of sheared and brecciated volcanic, sedimentary and volcaniclastic rocks.”
Ashley stared at him, blinking, ice water pounding through her veins. She shook her head hard. “Are you telling me that the rain is going to wash whatever is up there down, and what’s up there is big and heavy and going to steamroll right over us?”
Sherman squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them, looking back at her. “That’s the short answer, yeah,” he nodded.
Ashley moved to the covered doorway of the dilapidated building, her eyes marking the lush countryside rolling green and misty above her. The rain seemed to increase in velocity, hammering at the soft earth, mocking her, the cacophony ridiculing her guilt. And she did feel guilty because her first thought was that she’d be too busy, too worried to think of her mate, to miss Myles, if she were entrenched in a life or death struggle.
One wry glance up at Sherman told her that his guilt echoed hers.